


A Bad Dream Shook Me In My Sleep

by JulyWolf



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Angy is a tiny mother, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, From then on everything just keeps getting worse for Owen, Hollis is angry at everyone, I swear I'll eventually explain why they all have the same last name, Is that a tag?? It probably should be, Just not in this work, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Suicide, Multi, Nightmares, Original Character(s), Original Universe, Owen is a very sad very broken child, Owen is scared of Sanja, Sanja hates Owen, Suicidal Thoughts, Vampires, at the beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-21
Packaged: 2018-01-13 03:04:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1210321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JulyWolf/pseuds/JulyWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Owen has a typical round of nightmares, but this time someone unexpected comes to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Forgiven

**Author's Note:**

> My first chaptered work! c: Title taken from the lyrics of Maybe Sprout Wings by The Mountain Goats, the song that spawned all of my inspiration for this. Chapter 3 is still being written, but it won't be long before it's posted.

Owen finally forces himself awake, barely suppressing the strangled shout that punches his lungs. Pushing himself upright, he snatches the clock off from the bedside table, the rigid green numbers softly illuminating his face. 4:03 AM. Time to get up.  
Tossing the blankets off from himself, he stands up out of bed, legs wobbling slightly. He hadn't even noticed he was shaking. He brings up a trembling hand to rub at his eyes, flinching at the unexpected still-damp tear streaks he finds there.  
He sighs heavily, the shaky deep breaths doing very little to calm him. He drags one of the softer blankets off from his bed and makes his way out of his room, navigating the dark hallways of the large Pack house like he had lived here from birth. He plops down on the old blue couch in the den, flicking on the lamp next to it and throwing the blanket over himself, sinking back against the worn cushions. He tries to blink the stinging out of his eyes, part of him knowing it's futile. It's going to be a very, very long day.  
Just as he finishes that thought, memories of his dreams creep up on him, twisting his stomach back into knots that he had barely finished unraveling.   
Madison, Bailey, Caitlin, Eddie. He repeats those four names to himself in a hushed tone, he doesn't know how many times he's said it before he's crying again, pulling his knees up to his chest, trying to muffle his sobs with the blanket as tears spill onto it. He can still see every one of their bodies laying there, he can still smell the dizzying scent of blood, so much blood, blood that he spilled. He can hear his mother shouting, trying to talk him down at first, trying to power through the shock of seeing her son with fangs and bright red eyes. He can hear the screams that ensued when his instinct overpowered his senses and he couldn't stop to listen.  
Their murders were never solved, but he wants them to be. He wants to come forward and say I did this, I'm the god damned monster that murdered my own family, ripped their throats out and ran away to hide. He wants them to lock him up, to execute him, something. But as long as monsters aren't real, he's left here in this pathetic existence, to be tormented by his memories, to starve himself longer and longer, hoping eventually everyone will forget how long it's been and just let him die.  
Humans glorify monsters like him. They romanticize it all, turn it into some twisted kink. It's just an ignorant power fantasy, he tells himself. Nothing to get worked up over.  
He jolts at the sound of footsteps, looks to the hallway and suddenly the knots in his stomach are made of lead.   
Angyalka.  
It must bring her such satisfaction to catch this sight of him, wrecked and sleep-deprived and sobbing. He's glad it does. He knows he deserves it for what he tried to do, what he did do. No matter how much it was "driven by instinct", it can never be forgiven.  
He realizes what he sees on her face isn't satisfaction, nor is it pity. It's something softer, something worried or concerned. Something that cares about his wellbeing.  
Slowly, she brings herself closer to the couch, stopping about halfway. She opens her mouth to speak, but seems to decide against it at the last second.  
He shrinks in on himself, dropping his gaze to the floor, not feeling worthy of eye contact. He tries to maintain an air of neutrality around her, but here in the darkness of the very early morning, he's nothing but pitiful.  
When she finally perches on the couch beside him is when he visibly cringes, almost expecting her to hit him, to shatter the atmosphere of caring, tell him that he doesn't have any reason to cry. Instead he feels a small hand rest on his shoulder and out of the corner of his eye he can see her tilt her head, trying to get him to meet her gaze. When he does, he can't hold in the choked sob that comes out at the sight of her, small and innocent and so undeserving of all of the pain he caused. Her brow furrows slightly more and she inches closer.  
"What happened..?" her voice comes out so soft and gentle and he starts sobbing again, shaking his head.  
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to do it, I didn't." he starts to babble the half-slurred apology before it has time to process. "I'm a fucking monster, I'm so sorry."   
It takes her a moment to process his words before she speaks up again in that delicate little voice.  
"We're all monsters. That's why we stay together." she says. "I don't speak for Sanja, but...I forgive you."  
He starts to tell her not to, that he's undeserving, but she shushes him.  
"I decide whether or not you're deserving and I've decided. Now.." she pulls his blanket around his shoulders a bit more and brushes his hair out of his eyes. "Talk to me about your nightmares. You need to vent verbally."  
He spends the next two hours explaining them and she doesn't even flinch at the graphic details. He cries, she hushes him. He rambles about being unworthy of forgiveness, she reassures him every time.  
He doesn't know how she could have ever found it in her to forgive him, let alone care about him like this.   
But for now, he's not questioning it.


	2. Unforgiving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanja is pissed, paranoid and very threatening. Luckily for Owen's neck, she wastes her time shouting long enough that she doesn't get to act on her words. She's usually all talk anyway.

He was stupid to have trusted her when she was so close to him.  
He should have been on alert.  
He should have known she would be carrying a blade to try to slit his throat with.  
But he didn't know, he wasn't on alert, he did trust her for those few minutes. Now here he is, pinned to the ground under her weight with cold steel pressed against his neck, threatening to slice through the skin at her command.  
"You think you can get her to forgive you, huh?" Sanja hisses "You think you can fool me into doing the same? You're _fucking wrong._ "  
For a second he was going to shake his head in denial, realization swiftly smacking him again to tell him that would be the opposite of a good idea.  
"N-no. I didn't make her forgive me." Owen stutters "I tried to make her do the exact opposite. She w-wouldn't have it."  
"Little fucking **liar!** " She spits, snarling as she leans down even closer "What did you do, huh? Did you threaten her, tell her to convince me to lay off from you? I'm not tricked that fucking easily."  
"I'm telling you, I-I didn't." He can't even bother to hide the shaking in his voice, let alone the rest of him "I didn't do anything to her. I didn't tell her to say anything to you."  
"Yeah, because I'm going to believe the guy that tried to **murder** her and successfully murdered my **girlfriend!** " She says, scoffing "You think anyone is going to give a fuck if I slice your ugly little throat and leave you for dead out here? Because I can tell you right now, they're **not.** "  
He drops his gaze away from her, knowing she was right.  
He's not expecting what happens next.  
Sanja's weight is suddenly lifted off from him and gracelessly relocated before he can even look up. When he does, he's met with a more than relieving sight.  
There stands Hollis, looming over Sanja with teeth bared and eyes glowing a vibrant indigo.  
He leans down in her face as he growls out the words "I would 'give a fuck', thank you very _much._ " He punctuates the last word by shoving her harshly "Get the hell out of here and stay away from him, or else you'll be seeing more of me."  
With that, Sanja tries hard not to scramble as she gets to her feet and hastily makes an exit.  
Hollis is down next to Owen in an instant, eyes flicking back to their normal jet black. "Did she hurt you?" Owen is almost startled by how dramatically his tone changes to be so much softer.  
Owen shakes his head as he sits up the rest of the way "Nah, I'm good. Just scared shitless." He's attempting to joke about it, as if it will make Hollis any less pissed at her.  
Hollis just sighs. "You need to be more careful around her. Angy forgave you, but..I don't think she ever will."  
"Angy shouldn't have either." He replies.  
"It wasn't your fault, Owen." Hollis says "You were just acting on--"  
That fucking sentence. That's when he snaps.  
"YES, okay, I fucking _get it_. I was 'acting on instinct'!" He shouts, getting to his feet "That doesn't make it fucking **excusable** , Hollis. A guy murders ten kids because 'The Devil told him to do it', he still fucking murdered ten kids, he still goes to fucking prison, he's still a FUCKING murderer. I _can't_ go to prison, Hollis, you know why? Because monsters _don't exist_ , I don't fucking **EXIST!** "  
Hollis is back on his feet and just stares at Owen as he yells at him, not wanting to interrupt what he had to say.  
"You _think_ you know, but you don't really realize how much I want to _fucking die_ because of what I've done." He says, his voice starting to tremble again "I still relive every god damned _detail,_ every fucking night. Sanja's girlfriend, Angy, my fucking family, Hollis, I still hear the _screams_. Did you think maybe I _wanted_ Sanja to cut my throat, did you think of that?" He's lost all composure now, starting to break down into sobs.  
Hollis doesn't know what to say to it all. He hadn't thought of that, of course he hadn't. "I'm sorry, Owen..." What is he saying? What is he apologizing for? That isn't going to help! Hollis curses himself internally for his words.  
"No, **I'm** sorry." Owen says "I'm sorry you fell in love with a _murderer._ I'm sorry I don't want to live for anything but you, I'm sorry I love you too much to rid the world of my existence and leave it _better off._ "  
As Owen starts to walk away, Hollis' mind goes into panic mode right after it processes Owen's words and he catches up to him, stopping him to pull him into a desperate embrace.  
Owen freezes for a moment, then hugs back tightly, his body trembling as he lets himself cry. Hollis tries to suppress his own tears, for Owen's sake, but fails quite noticeably.  
"I'm s-sorry." Owen stutters, hiding his face against Hollis' shoulder.  
"It's alright, it's not your fault." Hollis whispers, refraining from speaking up so his voice won't shake "I love you so much."  
"I love you too."  
He knows it was his fault, all of it.  
He knows he's going to be paying for it mentally for the rest of his existence, however long that's going to be.  
But he'll be damned if he isn't going to try to live for Hollis.  
It's the one good thing he can do.


	3. The Consequences of Morning Coffee.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day, things get even worse. Of course.

Bubbles begin to form on the surface as she stirs her coffee, staring absentmindedly into the dark, steaming liquid. Angy isn't usually one for coffee, but she barely slept the night before, due to being awake half the night talking to Owen. So, she figures today is a good day for it.  
The scent of her drink mingles with the steam in pine-green wisps, making her scrunch her eyes slightly in aggravation.  
Most mornings, she can deal with the dizzying assault of colours waving around her vision. This morning was not one of those.  
She squeezes her eyes shut now, forcing the colours out of her mind. She reopens them when she catches the growing scent of cigarettes in the air and she jolts slightly in surprise.  
When had he gotten there?  
"It's not like you to make such a quiet entrance." She says, finally loosening her tense grip on the handle of her spoon and actually taking a sip of the coffee "That's kind of my job."  
Owen simply shrugs, puffing smoke out of his mouth before speaking.  
"You looked like you were pretty deep in thought, didn't want to interrupt." He says, running his fingers through his hair out of habit. Something seems off about him this morning. Not that something doesn't usually, but today is shaping up to be an interesting one so far.  
"Not really _deep_ in thought." She says "A little _lost,_ maybe, but not deep."  
"Same thing, isn't it?" He asks.  
"I guess it's debatable." She replies, pausing for a moment to take another sip of coffee "Shouldn't you be doing that outside?" She motions her free hand towards the hand he's holding his cigarette with.  
As she motions, he looks down at it. "Ehh, probably. I don't really care today." He says, taking another puff from it.  
"Fleur's gonna kill you. You know she hates that shit." She says, smiling "What's your deal this morning, anyway? You seem off."  
"Oh, well-" He starts, clearing his throat "Hollis took me hunting last night and I..went a bit off the wall. He excused it by saying it was his bad and I just wasn't ready to start doing it again, after all of that stress buildup, but I think it was a bit more than that."  
"So, you got caught up in the kill?" She asks, even she notices the analyzing tone spring into her words.  
"That's an understatement." He laughs nervously "We, uh, dragged it home. Hollis was afraid if it got found somehow that people were going to think some artistic serial killer was on the loose."  
"Good god. What did you _do_ to it?" She giggles.  
He looks a little sick at the question before answering "I'd rather not go into it, honestly. It was..really ugly."  
"Ahh, sorry. Thought you'd be open to it." She says, backing off from the topic.  
There's silence for a minute or two as he fumbles with the last of his cigarette, puts it out on his end of the table and leaves it there without really thinking about it, staring down at his hands on the edge of the table in contemplation.  
"...It felt good, Angy." He whispers, as if realizing this rather than admitting it.  
Her expression and words turn sympathetic now "I know it did. It's okay."  
She doesn't know whether he looks horrified or like he's considering throwing up. She settles on a bit of both. Luckily he doesn't get to do the latter.  
"Did Sanja tell you what happened yesterday...?" He's audibly trying to shift the subject, but his expression doesn't change.  
She shakes her head, visibly confused.  
"She was gonna cut my throat." He huffs something like a laugh "She thought that I'd _"manipulated"_ you into forgiving me. Had me pinned to the ground and everything."  
She frowns now, almost wanting to dispute what he was telling her, but she knows it's exactly what Sanja would do with something like this.  
"What stopped her?" She asks.  
"Hollis." He answers.  
"He's good for you, y'know." She says.  
He nods "Yeah. I'm just not good for him. He could have his pick of practically anybody, even a human. He chooses _me._ Toxic, hideous, murderous me."  
"That's because he's in love with you, Owen." She says.  
"I have no clue how he could be." He says.  
She sighs "Maybe you're not as awful and toxic as you make yourself out to be."  
In the second after the words tumble out of her mouth, his gaze snaps up to meet hers.  
"I _mutilated_ a person after drinking their blood and I LIKED it, Angy, it felt GOOD to me." He slams his hands against the table, his eyes starting to get wild "You wanna tell me that's not _toxic?_ You wanna tell me that's not CRAZY? Because I don't see how you _can,_ honestly! I cut my name into the guy's chest, my REAL name. I created a perfect simulation of a scene I'd had painted on the back wall of my mind since I was SIXTEEN!"  
By the time he stops yelling, Angy has gone rigid in a defensive position, leaning away from him even though he hasn't physically gotten any closer.  
She's going against all rational thought by saying any of what she's about to say.  
"Owen...I don't know _how_ to help you." She starts "Believe me, I'm not unwilling, you just..you don't _want_ to be helped. It's really clear. You have it set deep in your mind that you _deserve_ the mental torment you go through and you don't really want anyone to help you with it. You want to take it to the grave."  
It's when his expression goes from angry and wild to hurt and confused that she knows she's completely misread the situation and stuck her foot in it and her vision outlines itself in blue.  
That's also when she feels and sees wisps of gold making their way up the hall to the kitchen and she freezes to the spot, eyes widening, blue edges of her vision darkening, brain scrambling for a solution to the chaos about to be spawned.  
"Sanja, wait, don't hurt him-" Angy stammers, words coming out before her brain can process them.  
Sanja's eyes are set on Angy for the few moments it takes her to make it into the room "Hurt who?" She says, turning her attention away as the words come out and drop like lead when she sees him standing there, completely defenseless and she snarls, her eyes lighting up in bronze-tinged gold.  
" _Sanja!_ " Angy snaps, standing up out of her chair and snarling right back at her, her own eyes flashing a dark rose-red "I said do NOT hurt him!"  
Meanwhile, Owen was almost visibly arguing internally on whether to run away or defend himself.  
"Why not, huh? He doesn't get to receive any _payback_ for what he did?" Sanja asks "A little revenge never hurt! Or at least I wasn't the one feeling the pain."  
"He's gotten _plenty_ of payback from his own mind, believe me." Angy says, eyes flicking back to their normal black colour.  
Sanja scoffs, her own eyes flicking back to black "So, because he's fuckin' crazy, he gets a pass? Bullshit, Angy, that's _bullshit._ "  
"I'm not _crazy_." Owen objects.  
" _Sure_ you're not. I heard about what you did last night, you little freak." Sanja says "Kind of a small house even with how big it is, y'know what I mean? I wonder what your momma would say if she saw you now. Oh! But she _can't,_ can she?"  
Owen goes silent. In just a few seconds, something about the way he holds himself, something about his expression shifts drastically and Angy can tell nothing about it is good.  
"Owen..." Angy starts, carefully "Calm yourself.. You don't want to act on what you're thinking."  
"Are you sure 'bout that?" He asks, eerily calm and quiet "'Cause I don't know, really, I think she'd look pretty good in what I'm thinkin'. It's painted on the back wall, Angy."  
Sanja just laughs, taking her knife off her hip "You think you scare me? I still need to finish what I _barely_ started yesterday."  
"I think he's unpredictable enough right now that he _could_ scare you, Sanja." Angy snaps "I love you, but you need to back the fuck off from this."  
"Angy darlin', you need to just chill, alright?" Sanja says, twirling the knife in her hand "Anything I'd do to him would heal anyway, we both know that."  
"Not with the venom you've got on that thing. I can smell it from here." She says as she makes eye contact with Owen, trying to motion her head just enough that he gets the idea to start moving without giving it away to Sanja.  
Thankfully, he understands and takes a couple of steps to the side towards the exit.  
"Oh, really? Fuckin' _really?_ Do _not_ help him, I saw what you did there! I'm not as stupid as you may think." Sanja snaps, pinning Owen to the wall with her knife pressed against his shoulder in a matter of seconds.  
"HOLLIS!" Owen shouts, panicking.  
"Like he can hear you!" Sanja scoffs.  
"Sanja, get off of him. For your own sake, get _off_ of him." Angy says.  
This shouldn't be as much of a damn hostage situation as it's turned out to be.  
Is _this_ what she gets for wanting to sit down and have coffee?  
This is why you don't put eighteen _predatory creatures_ in the same house together.  
Ridiculous.  
She snaps out of her internal monologue and back to reality when she hears Owen make a choked noise and realizes Sanja's hand has him muffled and just cut across his chest with the knife.  
The venom-dipped knife.  
Angy's vision flares up in orange and before she can think her actions through, she's sent her coffee cup flying and hit Sanja in the weak spot in her shoulder, she hears a shout and the sound of the blade hitting the tiled floor, but she doesn't see it. Her vision is swallowed by an orange wave of light and she realizes that she's completely useless in this.  
 _"STOP IT."_  
A split second before she passes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew.  
> Sorry to leave off on that kind of note. Will hastily prepare the last chapter!!  
> Didn't expect it to go longer than three, but I figured I would add a little suspense. c:


	4. In Memory of The Freak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get worse, but then they get better.

Angy wakes up, slowly, vision hazy and outlined in a soft blue.  
She realizes after a minute that she's in her own bed. She starts remembering things just as slowly as she had woken up, first recalling sitting in the kitchen, talking to Owen, then passing out. There must have been more than that.  
Wait a minute.  
Blue.  
Why is she seeing blue?  
What is she so worried about?  
 _"Oh, fuck."_  
She scrambles out of bed, making no attempt to gain proper balance before running out of the room, dashing down the hallway towards Owen's room.  
She knocks on the door loudly in panic, rattling the handle only to find it locked.  
"OWEN?" She shouts, rattling the handle again.  
She squeezes her eyes shut. She sees the darkened green of Owen, so he's in there. She can see traces of gold, but Sanja isn't in there.  
Not anymore.  
She takes a few steps back from the door, the blue on the edges of her vision darkening itself.   
What can she do? What the _hell_ can she do?  
Then it dawns on her.  
Hollis.  
She takes off through the house again, eyes closed, tracking down the indigo light until she ends up at Hollis's door, knocking harshly, shifting her weight nervously.  
Hollis opens the door, looking down at her.   
"Angy?" He says, confused.  
"H-Hollis, it's Owen, something has happened." She stammers "I can't get into his room, I don't know what's happened to him, I-I think Sanja did something. I passed out, I don't know-"  
He doesn't let her finish before he's out the door, his steps loud and heavy as he storms through the house and she follows him hurriedly.  
Hollis slips off one of his necklaces as he approaches the door. It's a small, gold key. He shoves it into the slot in the handle and turns it roughly, shoving the door open a split second after and stepping into the room, stopping dead in his tracks at the sight he's met by.  
Owen is passed out on his bed, shirtless, bruised and still bleeding.  
Upon not very close inspection, a word has been cut across his chest.  
'FREAK'.  
Angy feels dizzy, seeing traces of gold light swirling around his wounds.  
Hollis is on him within seconds, trying to shake him awake, checking his pulse, his breathing, saying his name again and again. Angy feels like she might pass out again. She stumbles backwards out of the room, hitting something on her way out and spinning around to see.  
Sanja just stands there, looking _proud_ of herself.  
"Well?" She says, grinning "What d'you think?"  
Before Angy can even process it all, Hollis is out of the room, shoving Sanja violently against the wall, shouting obscenities and threats that are really _promises_ and Sanja is _laughing_ at him.  
"Hey! At least I left the little fucker _alive_." She says, trying to get her laughter under control "I wasn't going to. But I figure, y'know, might as well give him somethin' to remember. He didn't even fight back, he was offering himself up!"  
The words echo off from Angy's mind in harsh gold streaks, Hollis's snarls and shouts joining the gold with a burning indigo.   
Finally, she sees the darkness-stained lime green join them, begging for them to stop, for Hollis to back down and he does, though not willingly.  
Owen is trembling, tears streaking down his face.  
"Y-you got your _revenge._ " He says, looking in Sanja's direction but not meeting her eyes "Are you s-satisfied now?"  
"That was nowhere _near_ what you deserve." Sanja spat "I'm never gonna be 'satisfied'. But y'know what? She wouldn't have _wanted_ me to kill you. Unlike you, I can handle _not_ killing people."  
Owen doesn't say anything. Angy breaks the tension between Sanja and him by taking Sanja by the arm and practically dragging her down the hallway.  
\---  
She and Sanja don't speak for the next few hours.  
\---  
Later that day, Angy makes her way out to the den where Owen is sitting by himself in front of the TV and she notes the fresh bandages wrapped up around his chest. He's not watching the TV at all, just letting the insignificant news reports drone on in the background of his thoughts.  
She sits down next to him without a word.  
Their attention is caught simultaneously when a picture of Owen flashes up on the screen with a name under it that she doesn't recognize and Angy grabs the remote first, turning up the volume.  
 _"Today is the ten-year anniversary of the day local boy, Charlie Colwell, went missing. He was nineteen years old-"_ The reporter's voice states, just before Owen snatches the remote and mutes it, pauses it, and just stares at the picture and name, his face somewhere between shocked and sick.  
Angy looks between him and the TV for a moment, silent.  
"That's..your real name?" She asks, as if in disbelief. She knew that he had stopped going by his real name when he joined the pack, but never knew what it was.  
He nods slowly as he unpauses the TV, not turning it back up.  
After a minute, another picture comes up. A picture of his family. Owen and his mother are in the middle, his siblings on either side of them.  
Angy looks slightly confused, the question starting to come out of her mouth before she can think about it.  
"Where's your..-" She starts.  
"My dad?" He cuts her off, as if knowing she was going to ask the question.  
"Uh..yeah." She says.  
"By then, he was dead. I remember that picture being taken." He says, his tone flat "Blew his brains out when I was fifteen. I'm seventeen in that one."  
Angy stays silent, not wanting to pry the subject open any further. She already regrets doing so in the first place.  
He digs his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and snatches the lighter off the coffee table, plucking one out and lighting it between his lips in a practiced motion. He glances her way, holding the box towards her in a silent question.  
She stares at it for a moment. She hasn't smoked anything since she was in her teens and back then, it wasn't cigarettes except for the rare occasion she was offered by one of the many fake friends she had in high school.   
"Why not." She says, drawing one out of the box.   
He lights it for her and she leans back into the couch, letting the smoke fill her lungs. As she exhales, her vision outlines in purple. It's a familiar feeling, a calming one.  
They sit in silence for a little while. The scent of smoke swirls in the air in Angy's vision as a very light pink, outlining the smoke itself.  
"How's your chest?" She finally asks, grasping for something to break the silence with.  
"Still stings." He replies "I'll be fine, though."  
"I think you should sleep in Hollis's room for a few nights." She says "Or vice-versa. I want you to be safe while I'm getting Sanja under control."  
"She can't be controlled. We both know that." He says.  
She pauses, working over the words in her mind.  
" _I_ want to stay with you, then." She says "May I?"  
His lips quirk in a small smile.  
"Yeah. I'd like that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that concludes this adventure!   
> Sad to see it end, but luckily, I've got tons of ideas spawning for my next work! u v u


End file.
